Realm 06 - A Touch of Love (37 page)

Lucinda’s eyes fell on the long slender fingers holding her hand in place.
What could she say
?
Should she ask him how he had managed to steal her mother’s heart from her father
? Somehow, the words would not come. She would finish the journal to discover more of her parents’ pasts before she confronted the earl. Earlier, Lucinda had remarked on her uncle’s earnestness. She did not doubt his previous tales, but perhaps the earl had omitted some important fact.
As did your mother and father
, she silently cautioned.

The earl waited patiently for a response; therefore, with a small shrugging motion, she told him a half-truth. “The baron did not approve of Lord Hellsman’s joining with the former Arabella Tilney. He held plans for the eldest son to wed Bella’s cousin Miss Dryburgh, who holds connections to Lord Graham.”

Her uncle reasoned, “But I heard Lord Hellsman say his wife was the Earl of Vaughn’s granddaughter. The Vaughn title can be traced to the early Anglo Saxons. Graham’s only goes back three or four generations. Miss Tilney holds the more considerable lineage.”

“True,” Lucinda granted. “And if Miss Tilney’s family was not acceptable company, what of mine?” The earl frowned. “I did not mean it as such,” she said quickly. “Our connection is an exceptional one. However, the Blakehells have spent several days with their oldest daughter before returning to Blake’s Run. I am certain Lady McLauren has filled her parents’ heads with tales of my situation with Simon and of Sir Carter’s involvement. They must think Arabella infinitely more appropriate than I.”

“If what you say proves true, we will depart immediately. I would not have you subjected to more censure. You are my precious girl.”

Her uncle’s endearment was so reminiscent of her father’s sentiments Lucinda could not hold back the tears forming in her eyes’ corners. “You should know I have begun to read Papa’s journal.” She confessed. She saw anticipation flare in the earl’s gaze, and she swallowed her boiling lack of confidence. “I still wish time alone with Papa’s personal thoughts,” she cautioned, “but the box has many letters from Papa’s man of business. I thought they could shed light on the condition of the Devon estate. If your offer remains, would you assist me in deciphering them? Previously, I had thought to ask the Duke of Thornhill’s or Sir Carter’s man of business for assistance.” Lucinda paused awkwardly. “Now I possess other options. More important options.” She smiled to relieve the tension between them. “I prefer your expertise.”

The earl released her wrist. “And I prefer you, my Dear, to all others,” he said with an answering smile.

She bent to kiss his forehead. “Thank you for understanding. We shall deal well together, you and I.”

Although obviously still suffering from his headache, the earl made an appearance at the Lowerys’ supper table. Lucinda was quite pleased with how well Charleton handled the awkward situation. The earl was the flawless aristocrat, speaking pleasantly, but firmly.

“We were agreeably surprised by your presence at Blake’s Run,” the baron ventured.

Charleton held his soupspoon in ready. “I am certain, Blakehell, you have been apprised of the reason for my following my niece to your door. There is no need to pretend ignorance of Sir Carter’s orchestrating Lucinda’s and my reunion. If you have specific questions, I would be honest in my response, but I should warn you, I will not tolerate any reproach of my niece. Lucinda possesses the most noble heart; she has not always known peace, but my precious girl is a better person for rising above her difficulties.”

The last line was directed to Lucinda, who sat opposite her uncle. His words caused her to wish for things never possible. No one had ever spoken so eloquently of her. She mouthed a silent “Thank you.”

The baron blustered, “If either you or your niece, Charleton, thought we meant to rebuke Mrs. Warren, you have erred. However, you must admit it appears odd to have met a niece in a Manchester inn.”

The earl nodded his agreement and sipped his wine. “I sent for Lucinda after Waterloo, but those I hired convinced me my niece had perished in the battle’s aftermath. I was not aware she was alive and in England until I entered the private dining room occupied by your youngest son and my niece.”

Lucinda expected the baron to speak to the inappropriateness of her and the baronet sharing such intimacies. Instead, Blakehell asked, “And why did you not seek out your uncle, Mrs. Warren?”

Before she could respond, Charleton answered for her. Normally, his suppressing her freedom would have riled Lucinda, but today she welcomed the earl’s interference. “I am ashamed to say my brother and I stubbornly permitted an old feud to fester, and over the years, Lucinda was rarely in my company. If you ask her, my niece will tell you, she thought I would not welcome an impoverished relative. I fear Lucinda’s beliefs speak poorly of my character, not hers. My previous implacable nature is a trait I mean to change.” Her uncle had shouldered the blame for her immaturity. He was kind and generous, and Lucinda felt the regret of ever holding unchristian thoughts regarding the man. It was wonderful to have someone willing to protect her.

The baroness gave her husband a warning glare. “None of this is our concern. I, for one, have always trusted Carter to make astute judgments. If my youngest son thought Mrs. Warren’s cause one he would champion, then I am persuaded it is the right thing to do. No family history has a perfectly smooth course. It is how family members ride out the storm, which leads to merit. I shall hear no more talk of distress. Instead, I wish to celebrate the acknowledgement of Lawrence and Arabella’s coming together and bringing forth an heir to the title.”

“Here, here,” Lord Hellsman declared from beside Lucinda.

“Oh, Arabella, I am so pleased,” Lucinda said in earnest. “You deserve such happiness.” However, Lucinda knew a bit of envy. She kept what she
hoped was a welcoming countenance, but she had the vague fear the world knew her not worthy of an honest man’s love.

Bella beamed with contentment. “Papa is beside himself with anticipation. It shall be his first grandchild. He speaks of how Mama must be smiling down from Heaven.”

“Bella and I mean to call upon the Earl of Vaughn next week,” Lord Hellsman filled in the awkward silence. “I will not have Bella making such a long journey in bad weather or in the latter part of her lying in.”

The baroness overrode any response her husband intended to make. She evidently meant to keep “hostile” words from the conversation, and Lucinda admired the woman for her deft handling of what could have been an awkward moment. She was still not certain whether Lady Blakehell approved of her or not, but Lucinda appreciated how the woman took command of the evening. She prayed some day to possess as much aplomb within her own household.

After supper, the earl spoke of the need to return to his bed, and Lucinda begged to be excused to tend him. His step was a bit unsteady on the stairs, but his wit was in tact. “An interesting evening,” he said tongue in cheek.

“Not one I would care to repeat,” she confessed. “But you were truly brilliant, Sir.”

He patted her hand upon his arm. “It is time I serve as your guardian. It is a role I have long waited to assume.” They reached his chambers. “What say you retrieve Roderick’s papers, and you and I will begin our perusal?”

“I thought you ill.”

Always the perfect gentleman, her uncle smiled upon her. “I would be a fool to squander one moment with you. Give Mr. Priest time to assist me into something more comfortable, and then return with the box.”

Lucinda had changed into a simple gown without her stays and hurried to her uncle’s room. The earl lounged in a lush robe and sipped his cognac. “Welcome, my Dear,” he called from the table, cleared for their purpose. “Mr. Priest means to attend to my wardrobe while we work. I hope you hold no objections.”

Lucinda smiled easily. “Of course, not. Mr. Priest has proved himself most worthy. I appreciate his tender care upon your behalf.” She crossed to
sit opposite her uncle. “When had you thought to depart for Lancashire?” she asked casually.

“It would be unseemly to leave on the morrow. Very poor manners indeed, but I hold no doubt the following day would serve us well.”

“I am anxious to see Charles Place for the first time,” she said as she unlocked the box and set several bundled stacks upon the smooth surface.

“Actually, you were born in the east wing of the old section of the house,” the earl said unceremoniously. He untied the ribbon on the bundle she placed before him.

Lucinda sounded unconvinced. “Truly? I thought Mama and Papa were in Devon.” She thought of her father’s entry regarding her birth. The colonel had not spoken of his location; she had just assumed they had been at Merritt Hall.

“You may take note of your baptism in the local church records,” her uncle said as he read through the first document. “This is the deed to the Devon property. The land is paid free and clear. I should have my man of business peruse it; I have previously posted a letter to Mr. Shadwick regarding the rental arrangement.”

As the earl read the next document, Lucinda quickly scanned the deed. She thought it important to be knowledgeable of her father’s estate. While Charleton studied the multi-paged document, Lucinda released the ribbon on a smaller stack. She lifted the first one to examine it more closely. It was exactly like the many service reports she had seen among her father’s correspondence over the years. It was a summary of the colonel’s annual service and a pay accounting. This one was dated January 1804, some seven months before her birth. Her eyes skimmed the details a second time, and then the truth of the page struck her: Her father had spent the last six months of 1803 following Lord Arthur Wellesley at Assaye.

In September 1803, Scindia forces had lost to Lord Gerard Lake at Delhi and to Wellesley at Assaye. The colonel, a captain then, had departed for England before Lake defeated the Scindian force at Laswari, followed by Wellesley’s 29 November success over Bhonsie forces at Aragon. “If Papa departed northern India in early September, he could not have been in England for my conception,” she murmured awestruck. The earl had suddenly gone still, and Lucinda’s chest squeezed tighter. In a panic, she sprang to the chair she had occupied earlier to retrieve the journal from where she had left it.

Flipping through the pages she had skipped previously, she intently read the entry her father had written of being summoned home by his father to speak his vows to his betrothed Sophia Carrington. Instead of the lengthy journey around the Cape, Roderick Rightnour had set out on a three-month land and sea journey, traveling every day for long tedious hours to do his father’s bidding. “I am elated to claim Lady Sophia as my wife. I am the most fortunate of men,” he had written. The colonel and her mother had spoken their vows on 30 December 1803.

“Uncle Gerhard,” she said stiffly. “Was I an early baby?”

The earl blinked in surprise. He rose slowly to stand dejectedly. His voice was taut. “I should say you were,” he spoke on a tearful rasp, “but…” He paused to excuse Mr. Priest from the room. With the valet’s exit, the earl straightened his shoulders. “My father thwarted my plans to travel north with Sophia to Scotland.” His stance was stiff, but his lips trembled. “The old earl had noted my growing interest in Viscount Ross’s fourth daughter and had sent for Roderick’s return. Charleton and Ross had previously come to an agreement for Roderick and Sophia’s joining, but young hearts are not always obedient. When I learned of my father’s plans, I risked everything to claim Sophia as my own.”

Lucinda’s heart stumbled to a halt. Her eyes sought his, while a vague hollowness filled her chest. “Roderick Rightnour is not my father.” Her knees buckled, and she sank into the chair.

As if by magic, the earl knelt before her. A sad, painful vestige of a smile graced his lips. “It was never my wish not to claim you. In fact, Sophia and I thought we could change our parents’ objections; however, my father held other plans. He demanded what he termed a ‘temporary separation’ and sent me to the West Indies to survey our properties there. It was my punishment for betraying Charleton’s wishes. When I returned some ten months later, Sophia had accepted Roderick, and you had made your appearance. Roderick did not know, at least, not initially; you were always so petite, it was easy for others to believe your birth an early one. Then one day, Roderick caught Sophia crying while I embraced her. We fought, our blows destroying Mama’s favorite antiques. The old earl said it was best if Roderick remove his family to Devon. With my encouragement, Father made arrangements for my brother to claim Merritt Hall. Roderick never returned to Charles Place.”